Part 3 — 1826
Reading edition
The poems composed in 1826 were six. They include two referring to the month of May, and two descriptive of places near Rydal Mount.—Ed.
"ERE WITH COLD BEADS OF MIDNIGHT DEW"
Composed 1826.—Published 1827
[Written at Rydal Mount. Suggested by the condition of a friend.—I. F.]
One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."—Ed.
Ere with cold beads of midnight dew Had mingled tears of thine, I grieved, fond Youth! that thou shouldst sue To haughty Geraldine. Immoveable by generous sighs, 5 She glories in a train Who drag, beneath our native skies, An oriental chain. Pine not like them with arms across, Forgetting in thy care 10 How the fast-rooted trees can toss Their branches in mid air. The humblest rivulet will take Its own wild liberties; And, every day, the imprisoned lake 15 Is flowing in the breeze. Then, crouch no more on suppliant knee, But scorn with scorn outbrave; A Briton, even in love, should be A subject, not a slave! 20
ODE Composed on May Morning
Composed 1826.—Published 1835
[This and the following poem originated in the lines, "How delicate the leafy veil," etc. My daughter and I left Rydal Mount upon a tour through our mountains, with Mr. and Mrs. Carr,[423] in the month of May, 1826, and as we were going up the Vale of Newlands I was struck with the appearance of the little chapel gleaming through the veil of half-opened leaves; and the feeling which was then conveyed to my mind was expressed in the stanza referred to above. As in the case of Liberty and Humanity, my first intention was to write only one poem, but subsequently I broke it into two, making additions to each part so as to produce a consistent and appropriate whole.—I. F.]
In 1835, included in the Poems on Yarrow Revisited, etc. In 1837, one of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—Ed.
While from the purpling east departs The star that led the dawn, Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts, For May is on the lawn,[424] A quickening hope, a freshening glee, 5 Foreran the expected Power, Whose first-drawn breath, from bush and tree, Shakes off that pearly shower. All Nature welcomes Her whose sway Tempers the year's extremes; 10 Who scattereth lustres o'er noon-day, Like morning's dewy gleams; While mellow warble, sprightly trill, The tremulous heart excite; And hums the balmy air to still 15 The balance of delight. Time was, blest Power! when youths and maids At peep of dawn would rise, And wander forth in forest glades Thy birth to solemnize. 20 Though mute the song—to grace the rite Untouched the hawthorn bough, Thy Spirit triumphs o'er the slight; Man changes, but not Thou! Thy feathered Lieges bill and wings 25 In love's disport employ; Warmed by thy influence, creeping things Awake to silent joy: Queen art thou still for each gay plant Where the slim wild deer roves; 30 And served in depths where fishes haunt Their own mysterious groves. Cloud-piercing peak, and trackless heath, Instinctive homage pay; Nor wants the dim-lit cave a wreath 35 To honour thee, sweet May! Where cities fanned by thy brisk airs Behold a smokeless sky, Their puniest flower-pot-nursling dares To open a bright eye. 40 And if, on this thy natal morn, The pole, from which thy name Hath not departed, stands forlorn Of song and dance and game; Still from the village-green a vow 45 Aspires to thee addrest, Wherever peace is on the brow, Or love within the breast. Yes! where Love nestles thou canst teach The soul to love the more; 50 Hearts also shall thy lessons reach That never loved before. Stript is the haughty one of pride, The bashful freed from fear, While rising, like the ocean-tide, 55 In flows the joyous year. Hush, feeble lyre! weak words refuse The service to prolong! To yon exulting thrush the Muse Entrusts the imperfect song; 60 His voice shall chant, in accents clear, Throughout the live-long day, Till the first silver star appear, The sovereignty of May.
FOOTNOTES:
TO MAY[425]
Composed 1826-34.—Published 1835
One of the "Poems of Sentiment and Reflection."—Ed.
Though many suns have risen and set Since thou, blithe May, wert born, And Bards, who hailed thee, may forget Thy gifts, thy beauty scorn; There are who to a birthday strain 5 Confine not harp and voice, But evermore throughout thy reign Are grateful and rejoice! Delicious odours! music sweet, Too sweet to pass away! 10 Oh for a deathless song to meet The soul's desire—a lay That, when a thousand years are told, Should praise thee, genial Power! Through summer heat, autumnal cold, 15 And winter's dreariest hour. Earth, sea, thy presence feel—nor less, If yon ethereal blue With its soft smile the truth express, The heavens have felt it too. 20 The inmost heart of man if glad Partakes a livelier cheer; And eyes that cannot but be sad Let fall a brightened tear. Since thy return, through days and weeks 25 Of hope that grew by stealth, How many wan and faded cheeks Have kindled into health! The Old, by thee revived, have said, "Another year is ours;" 30 And wayworn Wanderers, poorly fed, Have smiled upon thy flowers. Who tripping lisps a merry song Amid his playful peers? The tender Infant who was long 35 A prisoner of fond fears; But now, when every sharp-edged blast Is quiet in its sheath, His Mother leaves him free to taste Earth's sweetness in thy breath. 40 Thy help is with the weed that creeps Along the humblest ground; No cliff so bare but on its steeps Thy favours may be found; But most on some peculiar nook 45 That our own hands have drest, Thou and thy train are proud to look, And seem to love it best. And yet how pleased we wander forth When May is whispering, "Come! 50 "Choose from the bowers of virgin earth "The happiest for your home; "Heaven's bounteous love through me is spread "From sunshine, clouds, winds, waves, "Drops on the mouldering turret's head, 55 "And on your turf-clad graves!" Such greeting heard, away with sighs For lilies that must fade, Or "the rathe primrose as it dies Forsaken"[426] in the shade! 60 Vernal fruitions and desires Are linked in endless chase; While, as one kindly growth retires, Another takes its place. And what if thou, sweet May, hast known 65 Mishap by worm and blight; If expectations newly blown Have perished in thy sight; If loves and joys, while up they sprung, Were caught as in a snare; 70 Such is the lot of all the young, However bright and fair. Lo! Streams that April could not check Are patient of thy rule; Gurgling in foamy water-break, 75 Loitering in glassy pool: By thee, thee only, could be sent Such gentle mists as glide, Curling with unconfirmed intent, On that green mountain's side. 80 How delicate the leafy veil Through which yon house of God Gleams 'mid the peace of this deep dale[427] By few but shepherds trod! And lowly huts, near beaten ways, 85 No sooner stand attired In thy fresh wreaths, than they for praise Peep forth, and are admired. Season of fancy and of hope, Permit not for one hour, 90 A blossom from thy crown to drop, Nor add to it a flower! Keep, lovely May, as if by touch Of self-restraining art, This modest charm of not too much, 95 Part seen, imagined part!
FOOTNOTES:
"ONCE I COULD HAIL (HOWE'ER SERENE THE SKY)"
Composed 1826.—Published 1827
"Late, late yestreen I saw the new moone Wi' the auld moone in hir arme."
Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence, Percy's Reliques.—W. W.
["No faculty yet given me to espy The dusky Shape within her arms imbound."
Afterwards, when I could not avoid seeing it, I wondered at this, and the more so because, like most children, I had been in the habit of watching the moon through all her changes, and had often continued to gaze at it when at the full till half blinded.—I. F.]
From 1827 to 1842, one of the "Epitaphs and Elegiac Poems." In 1845 transferred to the "Miscellaneous Poems."—Ed.
Once I could hail (howe'er serene the sky) The Moon re-entering her monthly round, No faculty yet given me to espy The dusky Shape within her arms imbound, That thin memento of effulgence lost 5 Which some have named her Predecessor's ghost. Young, like the Crescent that above me shone, Nought I perceived within it dull or dim; All that appeared was suitable to One Whose fancy had a thousand fields to skim; 10 To expectations spreading with wild growth, And hope that kept with me her plighted troth. I saw (ambition quickening at the view) A silver boat launched on a boundless flood; A pearly crest, like Dian's when it threw 15 Its brightest splendour round a leafy wood; But not a hint from under-ground, no sign Fit for the glimmering brow of Proserpine.[428] Or was it Dian's self[428] that seemed to move Before me?—nothing blemished the fair sight; 20 On her I looked whom jocund Fairies love, Cynthia,[428] who puts the little stars to flight, And by that thinning magnifies the great, For exaltation of her sovereign state. And when I learned to mark the spectral Shape 25 As each new Moon obeyed the call of Time, If gloom fell on me, swift was my escape; Such happy privilege hath life's gay Prime, To see or not to see, as best may please A buoyant Spirit, and a heart at ease. 30 Now, dazzling Stranger! when thou meet'st my glance, Thy dark Associate ever I discern; Emblem of thoughts too eager to advance While I salute my joys, thoughts sad or stern; Shades of past bliss, or phantoms that, to gain 35 Their fill of promised lustre, wait in vain. So changes mortal Life with fleeting years; A mournful change, should Reason fail to bring The timely insight that can temper fears, And from vicissitude remove its sting; 40 While Faith aspires to seats in that domain Where joys are perfect—neither wax nor wane.
FOOTNOTES:
"THE MASSY WAYS, CARRIED ACROSS THESE HEIGHTS"
Composed 1826.—Published 1835[429]
[The walk is what we call the Far-terrace, beyond the summerhouse at Rydal Mount. The lines were written when we were afraid of being obliged to quit the place to which we were so much attached.—I.F.]
One of the "Inscriptions."—Ed.
The massy Ways, carried across these heights[430] By Roman perseverance,[431] are destroyed, Or hidden under ground, like sleeping worms. How venture then to hope that Time will spare[432] This humble Walk? Yet on the mountain's side 5 A Poet's hand first shaped it; and the steps Of that same Bard—repeated to and fro At morn, at noon,[433] and under moonlight skies Through the vicissitudes of many a year— Forbade the weeds to creep o'er its grey line. 10 No longer, scattering to the heedless winds The vocal raptures of fresh poesy, Shall he frequent these precincts; locked no more In earnest converse with beloved Friends, Here will he gather stores of ready bliss, 15 As from the beds and borders of a garden Choice flowers are gathered! But, if Power may spring Out of a farewell yearning—favoured more Than kindred wishes mated suitably With vain regrets—the Exile would consign 20 This Walk, his loved possession, to the care Of those pure Minds that reverence the Muse.[434]
FOOTNOTES:
FAREWELL LINES[435]
Composed 1826.—Published 1842
[These lines were designed as a farewell to Charles Lamb and his sister, who had retired from the throngs of London to comparative solitude in the village of Enfield—I.F.]
One of the "Poems founded on the Affections."—Ed.
"High bliss is only for a higher state,"[436] But, surely, if severe afflictions borne With patience merit the reward of peace, Peace ye deserve; and may the solid good, Sought by a wise though late exchange, and here 5 With bounteous hand beneath a cottage-roof To you accorded, never be withdrawn, Nor for the world's best promises renounced. Most soothing was it for a welcome Friend, Fresh from the crowded city, to behold 10 That lonely union, privacy so deep, Such calm employments, such entire content. So when the rain is over, the storm laid, A pair of herons oft-times have I seen, Upon a rocky islet, side by side, 15 Drying their feathers in the sun, at ease; And so, when night with grateful gloom had fallen, Two glow-worms in such nearness that they shared, As seemed, their soft self-satisfying light, Each with the other, on the dewy ground, 20 Where He that made them blesses their repose.— When wandering among lakes and hills I note, Once more, those creatures thus by nature paired, And guarded in their tranquil state of life, Even, as your happy presence to my mind 25 Their union brought, will they repay the debt, And send a thankful spirit back to you, With hope that we, dear Friends! shall meet again.